


May We Meet Again

by Sagittae



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3560927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagittae/pseuds/Sagittae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion work for "Red Button".</p>
            </blockquote>





	May We Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't expect such a big response to "Red Button"! Well... Here you go... You guys asked for it...

_“Hey, you’ve reached Abbie Mills, leave a message_.”

“Miss Mills, I am simply calling to reconfirm our meeting, as it has been exactly one hour and twenty-two minutes since our last discussion. I would be quite glad if you returned this message with a reply. Signed, Ichabod Crane.”

**-**

“ _Hey, you’ve reached Abbie Mills, leave a message.”_

“Lieutenant, apologies for yet another message, but it seems I am having difficulties when trying to reach you. If you would please let me know the status of your situation, I would be most grateful. Signed, Ichabod Crane.”

**-**

“ _Hey, you’ve reached Abbie Mills, leave a message.”_

“I am rather concerned for your well being as of now, Lieutenant. It has now been two hours and I have not heard from you… Please respond when you receive this, Abbie. Signed, Ichabod Crane.”

**-**

After his last call to the Lieutenant, it didn’t take long for him to realize that something was very wrong. At first, he wanted to believe that her phone had lost its battery and she was still on her way to the cabin.

(That couldn’t be it; she kept a portable energy source in her vehicle to charge her cellular device.)

He wanted to think that she went back to her apartment to change into different clothing for their night together.

(Though, he knew this was also unlikely, for the Lieutenant kept a small amount of her wardrobe at the cabin.)

But really, he couldn’t seem to get rid of the growing dread that had latched itself onto his heart the first time he heard Miss Mills’s voicemail. Ichabod couldn’t stop his mind from wandering into the darker and murkier thoughts. He wanted to believe, to think, to hope, but all he was doing was praying.

Praying that his worst nightmares had not come to life.

A few more broken, doubtful thoughts later, Ichabod sprung into action and began to tear the town apart. His legs barely supported his weight as he staggered up and down the streets of Sleepy Hollow. The churning anxiety that had brewed in his stomach had made its way up to his head, leaving his mind foggy and clouded. And the feeling only grew worse when he first went to her apartment, only to find that it was just as dark and empty as his heart felt.

However, when he stepped into archives, he felt something strike his heart. With every step forward, he felt as if the air was being squeezed out of him. A stinging, burning pain erupted in his chest as he made his way deeper into the room, gasping for breath as if he had just ran for miles. “Lieutenant?” Ichabod was barely able to rasp out the word. “Lieutena--?”

He choked on his voice and the only sound that came from him was what could only be described as someone being strangled. He dropped to his knees, right then and there, leaving him to crawl the rest of the way towards the Lieutenant’s body. “ _No._ No, no, no, no, no, no, _NO_!” Ichabod was already sobbing and tears blurred his vision as he reached out to touch the side of her face.

This couldn’t be happening. This _wasn’t_ happening. They were supposed to be together. Seven years of tribulation, seven years together. That’s what the bible foretold, that’s what they were _promised_. He felt cheated, disrespected, lied to.

It just couldn’t be right.

“Abbie. _Abbie_ , _please_ ,” he begged, pleaded. Not just to her, but to whatever God or power would listen to him, he didn’t care. He needed to be heard; he needed _her_. “Please, you _cannot_ be gone.” It was a fact, a statement. For what good was life in his world if Abigail Mills wasn’t in it with him? When they had met that fateful day, their fates had become entwined, as well as their very existence. How does one Witness survive without the other?

His palm rested against her cheek, ashen and cool to the touch. With his other hand, he managed to push away the bangs that had covered half of her face, revealing her beauty completely. Ichabod stared achingly at her features, wishing they would just come alive once more and brighten this hellish night.

He had spent so long staring, waiting for something to happen, that he had barely noticed the phone that was limply gripped in one of her hands.

And it was that moment that he felt ready to fall apart.

“ _Imma need you to press the red button for me._ ”

_No…_

She had known. The whole time he was talking to her, conversing casually, she had been _dying._ She was alone.

" _You know I love you,_   _right?"_

Ichabod allowed tears to flow freely from eyes as he pulled Abbie into his lap, not caring about the chill that ran down his spine when he felt her cool skin against his own. And he ignored the sickening summersault his gut performed when the Lieutenant's blood tainted his hands. He cradled her, bringing her still frame to his chest as he rocked back and forth. 

The whole time he whispered the words, "Please don't do this to me, Abbie, please. Please don't." He chanted them like a mantra until even that was too much, and eventually the only sound that could be heard in the quiet room was his weeping. And with every passing second, Abbie seemed to get heavier in his arms.

But no weight could ever compare to the one that had taken over his heart.

* * *

 

" _Crane."_ The sound of Miss Jenny's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked up from his book, one that had long since been abandoned. "You okay?" She stood above him while watching him with a concerned gaze.

He instantly turned away. After what had happened, Ichabod found that he couldn't be around Jenny for long periods of time. It hurt too much. "I am fine, thank you. It seems like my mind is elsewhere today." It had always been this way ever since...

"Cut the crap, Crane," Jenny snapped sternly. "We both know you haven't been ' _fine_ ' since Abbie died." Then again, no one had.

After the Captain found him in the archives the next day, things had never been the same. Irving hardly spoke to him anymore. He still helped their cause, of course, but he usually opted to speak with Jenny instead, which was understandable. Ichabod didn't speak much, anyway.

On the other hand, Jenny had grown to be... Extraordinarily similar to her sister. Her easy-going attitude had vanished and was then replaced with something harder, more stoic. She pulled back from her usual escapades and stationed herself firmly in Sleepy Hollow, hardly ever leaving to anywhere that was more than twenty minutes from the town's border. Most days he and Jenny would sit in the cabin, barely speaking to one another unless something new was found.

And for Ichabod... Well, everyone knew what had happened to him that night.

Everything, yet nothing.

Jenny slammed a book down, surprising him, to say the least. This was the most dialogue they have had for weeks. "Look, I'm tired of this. I'm done pussyfooting around the subject," Jenny's voice then became incredibly soft. "We were going to have to talk about it eventually, Ichabod. I know you still blame yourself for what happened."

Ichabod said nothing. He simply directed his gaze towards the ground, staring at the ugly patterns in the tattered carpet, trying to block out their current conversation. Though, Jenny obviously didn't care, because she continued. 

"It wasn't your fault, Crane. Doctor Jones said that she should have died instantly from that wound. The fact that she was even able to speak for more than ten seconds was a miracle. There was nothing you could do," Jenny stepped closer to him and he nearly cringed.

Ichabod began in the quietest voice imaginable. "She came here that evening for a piece of research  _I_ had said we needed. She would still be alive if I--."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Jenny snapped. "Do you really think my sister would have come here if she didn't think it was important, too? She chose to come here, Crane. You didn't push her out of the door."

Jenny put a hand over his, which almost caused him to jump, "She wouldn't want this, Ichabod. She wouldn't want you to tourment yourself over her choices."

And he knew Miss Jenny was right. She usually was. But he couldn't just let it go. There were times when he would wake up crying, reliving that night over and over again. Other moments he would feel her blood on his hands, no matter how many times he attempted to wash the feeling away. And he often felt _her_ presence with him. It was cold, as if there was a permanent chill in the air, constantly reminding him of how icy her skin had at that time.

"It is... Incredibly difficult to try and forget," he finally croaked.

"Then don't forget," Abbie's sister suggested with a sad smile. "Remember and move on. It's what she would want." 

Ichabod felt a sudden wetness on his cheeks and it was only then that he realized that he had been crying. He tried to raise his arm to wipe at the tears, but instead he felt his body shudder as an involuntary sob ripped through the still silence that had enveloped the cabin. He held his head in his hands, not even attempting to staunch the free falling streams coming from his eyes. 

He didn't know what it was at first; it felt strange. It was the kind of crying that relieved pain by pushing through it. He felt as if every tear was a pound less of burden and sorrow that he had to carry. And while it was refreshing, it still hurt. And it hurt so much that he didn't even notice Jenny put her arms around him. 

But he knew now. 

He knew how he would remember her smile and her laugh. How the light seemed to hit her in just the right ways and how she wrinkled nose when she was confused. How she looked at him with joy and how his heart swelled when she did. 

And suddenly, a warm air gusted through the cabin, replacing the constant chill that used to follow him. The smell of lavender filled the space, wrapping around him like a gentle embrace. And for the first time in months, Ichabod knew what he was suppose to do. 

He would soldier on, continue their fight.

And then...

And then he would go see her again. 


End file.
